How
by Snicker Puff
Summary: Mark can't accept his friends' deaths. MarkCollins friendship.


_A/N - This was written for a challenge over on LJ. I'm not at all happy with it, but I'm posting anyway. On another note, come visit my Fic community:D There are lots of great fics and prizes to be one. Even if you don't write, come and review or vote. Reviewers can win prizes :D You can get to it through my profile page... can't seem to figure out how to post a link here..._

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He'd walked in on them. He hadn't realized it would happen so soon. He'd been coming to visit, brought some food, pictures. Things they could talk about. Laugh about. He didn't know it would happen so soon. 

He'd walked in on them. They looked just as they had when he'd left not two hours before. Angel, wrapped in Collins' arms, his head resting on his chest. Collins had been telling him a story. He hadn't been able to hear the words, didn't know if even Angel could hear them. But the deep rumble of Collins' voice always seemed to soothe him, to take away some of the constant pain he was in.

It had been painful for all of them; watching Angel fade from the vibrant young man they'd become accustomed to. The man who had a smile for everyone, who knew just what to say in every situation. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like for Collins. He'd been at Angel's side constantly. He never left. Slept fitfully, perched on the edge of the bed next to him, awakened by any small move his lover made.

He came as often as he could. He'd had to leave earlier today. Meeting. He hadn't wanted to go, but Collins had insisted it was okay. Maybe he knew. Maybe he knew and wanted to spend Angel's last moments alone with him. Just the two of them, as it should be.

They looked just as they had when he'd left. But he knew. He could see it in the pain written all over Collins. In the tear stains on his cheeks. In the way he held Angel so tight. Knew it even before Collins noticed he was there.

When Collins looked up at him, he was sure he could feel the other man's broken heart. The anguish in his eyes made the breath catch in his throat. He tried to speak, but he couldn't. Couldn't.

Collins did it for him.

"Mark," his voice was strangled, and Mark saw him hold Angel just a little tighter, "It's over." The last word was barely a breath, and with it came all the pain of a man who had lost everything. The words hit Mark like a crushing blow and he immediately crumpled, sinking to the floor, just staring at them.

_It's over_.

The words echoed in his mind and it was as though life had lost all meaning. How could they lose Angel? How could _he_ lose Angel? Lose another friend to this disease?

The next few days were like a blur. Mark took it upon himself to make the necessary arrangements. Just like he had with April. Angel's death had brought back the vivid memories of her suicide, of the aftermath. And with those memories had come the realization that Angel wouldn't be the last.

A haze fell over Mark as he watched his friends. Roger. Mimi. Collins. Especially Collins. They were all going to leave him. They were all going to die. Just like April. Just like Angel. And Mark would have to watch.

He wasn't strong enough for that. When April had died, Collins had been the one to clean the bathroom – no one else could. It had been hard on him, Mark knew, and yet, he seemed to have moved on completely. Mark hadn't seen April. Hadn't seen the bathroom. But he was still haunted by her death.

And now Angel. Angel was gone. The man who had brought that spark into Collins' life, who had brought love into Collins' life. Gone. And still, Collins was staying strong. Yes, he was crushed, yes, he cried; but he never lost his spirit.

Mark had.

He couldn't understand it. Collins had been through so much more than he. Collins had seen so much with April, had lost part of his very soul with Angel. But he went on.

Mark cried himself to sleep every night.

The pain was immense. He didn't know how to handle it. April's suicide had been hard to accept, but Angel's death had been far worse. Watching him suffer for so long had torn his heart apart. Knowing he was only the first made it excruciating – every time he looked at his friends, he imagined them in Angel's position. How much longer did they have? How long would their sickness drag on?

After the funeral, Mark approached Collins as he stood at Angel's grave. He could look at it. Didn't want to think about such a lively person inside that wooden box. He swallowed hard, then placed a hand on Collins' shoulder. The two stood in silence for a long while, each lost in his own thoughts, before Collins knelt down and pressed his lips to the wood. He then stood up and turned to Mark, smiling faintly and leading them away from the coffin.

As they walked away, Mark stared at Collins intently, as though he could find the key to dealing with his grief written on the other man's face. Collins noticed and looked at him curiously.

"What?" he asked softly. His voice shook only slightly.

Mark looked up at Collins. He knew exactly what he wanted to ask, but how could he? Collins didn't need the added burden of Mark's grief. His own was almost tangible. He swallowed hard and shook his head, keeping his question to himself; keeping his sadness to himself.

"Mark," Collins began, a warning in his tone, "Don't think you can't talk to me because Angel…" his voice broke at the mention of his name, tears springing to his eyes. Mark watched as he closed them, only briefly, before looking at him again. "You can talk to me, Mark," he finished.

Mark regarded him for a moment longer before finally letting it out. "How do you do it Collins?" he blurted, "How do you go on? After all you've seen? April. Angel. I can't handle it. And then the thought that you…" he trailed off, choking on his words.

Collins chuckled sadly. "Mark, if you think those things don't bother me, you're wrong. But the way I see it is that I have choices." He paused, glancing over at his friend. "Mark, right now I feel like I'm being torn apart. Angel was my everything. I want to just lay down and die with him. But I learned a long time ago that I can't do that. I have to go on. I know I'm going to die before you, before most of my friends. So I can either stay home and worry about it, or I can live. Angel knew it. He knew he didn't have a lot of time, and he lived his life to the fullest every day. I want to do that too. Things are going to happen that'll bring me down… I'll never forget Angel. It'll never get any easier to wake up without him. But I can still enjoy myself. Enjoy the life I have. And when it's time, I know I'll be with him again. And I'll be happy that I didn't waste my life."

Mark was taken aback. He'd never heard Collins speak so much. But his words rang true in Mark's heart. He didn't know if he had the same strength and conviction as Collins, but he knew Collins was right. He needed to take what life threw at him and grieve in his own way. And live.

Mark would grieve. He would grieve for Angel. For Collins and Roger and Mimi. He'd never forget them, but he'd live. He'd live for them.


End file.
